The Moral of the Story
by LaGoddess
Summary: 16 year old Draco Malfoy has finally become a death eater. The Dark Lord favours him but he's not sure that he wants the attention. M for sex, language etc.


Disclaimer: I still own nothing. Just the story. Someone remind me to write a fic without Draco Malfoy as a main character…

chapter 01

Seven hooded black figures emerged from the dungeons of the Avery Mansion. They organised themselves in a line and knelt before another figure whose pale white skin contrasted sharply with the pitch robes he wore. The figure pulled down his hood revealing gleaming red eyes and slit nostrils that flared with every slow breath he took. An evil smile spread across Voldemort's pale face as he looked down at the seven figures below him.

'I welcome you, my newest disciples,' he said slowly. 'May I begin by saying that not one of you means anything to me. You are only worth what you can do for me, never forget that. Lord Voldemort rewards his helpers, and he punishes those who fail him. Our mission is against all Mudbloods and Mudblood lovers, no matter who they are. Now, stand and face me, loyal Death Eaters.'

One by one the cloaked forms stood and dropped their hoods. First of them to stand was Draco Malfoy. Draco stood carefully and lowered his hood to look upon the Dark Lord. His eyes widened slightly as he took in the seemingly frail, thin fingers and tall, sickly frame. The other six figures were none other than Crabbe and Goyle, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, and Theodore Nott. Tonight was the initiation into the Death Eaters for the Slytherin sixth years.

Voldemort bored his eyes into each of theirs in turn, as if searching for something more. He then cast the spell that would bind them to him forever.

'_MORSMORDRE_!'

The seven young Death Eaters fell, screaming as they felt a searing pain tear through the skin of their left arms. Draco grimaced, squeezing his eyes so tightly that the coloured lights that would usually appear disappeared into the darkness. He opened his eyes, gasping, and looked hesitantly at his left arm. He saw the image of a skull with a serpent for a tongue glowing fresh and green on his skin. A shadow came over him and he looked up at Lord Voldemort smiling more viciously than before.

'I expect no less than perfection from you, young Malfoy. Do not disappoint me.'

'Yes, my Lord.'

* * *

Draco was back at Hogwarts the next day. He and the other six Slytherins had flooed home for this 3rd weekend of September to be initiated. Draco's own excuse to go home was his mother's illness. This was partially ture. She had been ill on and off since the return of the Dark Lord. Lucius, who had escaped from Azkaban promptly after arriving, didn't think much of it, but her even paler than usual visage and her suddenly frail nature had Draco worried.

Draco walked into the Great Hall for breakfast. He was accompanied, not by Crabbe and Goyle, his two useless cronies since first year, but by Blaise Zabini, the only decent friend he had from the Slytherin sixth years. Blaise had black hair and indigo blue eyes. He was second to Draco on the list of notable Slytherins, and unlike Crabbe and Goyle, he had his own brain.

As they approached the Slytherin table, Draco saw who was sitting at the table across from them and snorted. Saint Potter and the Pips were sitting and laughing over porridge and kippers at the Gryffindor table. Draco smirked and nudged Blaise.

'Well, well, well, Blaise, look what the hippogriff dragged in: a potty, a weasel, and a Mudblood!'

'Fuck off, Malfoy,' sneered Ron.

'You kiss your mother with that mouth, Weasley? Not that anyone would kiss her fat arse anyway.' Ron's flaming red hair bristled in anger and he stood, challenging Malfoy. Hermione put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him down.

'Just bugger off, Malfoy,' she said exasperatedly, her robes slipping as she struggled to keep Ron down. Draco and Blaise wasted no time in getting a good look at her chest.

'Oh dear, Granger. Finally reached puberty, have we?' Blaise said licking his lips. 'What are you, a C cup? D maybe?'

'Say that again and I'll hex your bloody eyes out,' Harry finally said, standing. A chance to get at Potter, this is what Draco had been waiting for.

'Oh, I see. Defending what's yours, Potter? Don't want anyone else noticing your darling Mudblood's new knockers? Well I'm sure they're not looking,' he said with one last sneer. Draco suddenly remembered his initiation from the night before and smiled broadly at the knowledge that he had joined the ultimate anti-Harry Potter club and Potter knew nothing of it. He made to stride away and saw out of the corner of his eye Lavender Brown eyeing him. He smirked and winked softly at her before walking away with Blaise.

'Draco, is it just me, or was the Blonde Gryffindor giving you the once over?'

'No, I saw it too. Y'know, this might be a fabulous opportunity,' Draco said as they sat down at an end of the Slytherin table.

'Mate, if there's any Gryffindor you should be shagging, its Granger. Do you know what would come with that package? Eternal respect from getting the goody-two-shoes doing the dirty and a probably a bloody good shag. It would be the greatest moment of my life,' Blaise said, eyes glazing over.

'Er—alright, Blaise, you do that,' Draco said helping himself to eggs and toast. 'But I'm not touching one inch of her filthy, Mudblood body. Besides, I haven't finished with that seventh year Hufflepuff.'

'What Hufflepuff?' asked a whiny female voice. Draco looked round and saw Pansy Parkinson behind him, her pug face contorted in a pout, arms crossed over her chest. Draco groaned internally. Pansy had been obsessed with him since forever and had no intent of stopping anytime soon. Draco had once welcomed her advances, well, that was before he realized he could do so much better.

'Why hello, Pansy, you're looking particularly—well, ahem, how are you doing?' Blaise said with a cruel smile.

'Fine,' she said, missing his sarcasm entirely. She sat next to Draco and whined, 'You haven't been to see me Drakie. Is it because of this Hufflepuff whore?'

'I wouldn't be talking if I were you, skinny arse,' Blaise sneered under his breath.

'Come off it, Pansy, I've been busy doing…stuff.'

'Like what? Or should I say "who?"'

'Obviously not you,' Blaise hissed so only Draco could hear. Draco snorted in laughter, but Pansy scowled at him.

'Oh don't, Pansy. I'll come by tonight if you want me to.'

'No, I'll come to you; you can't get out of it that way. I'll see you later Drakie.' She strutted off swinging her inexistent hips. Blaise turned to him slowly.

'What in Salazar's name is wrong with that girl?' he asked incredulously. 'You more than obviously can't stand her and you treat her like she's a flobberworm, yet she always comes back! She's like a fucking boomerang, mate!'

'An ugly, pug-faced boomerang. Whatever, I don't plan to be in my room tonight anyhow.'

'Where're going to be?'

'Hiding in your room.' Draco and Blaise snickered loudly. 'Or, actually,' Draco said still laughing, 'I might try to pay a visit to that Brown girl. I won't shag her,' he said seeing Blaise's raised eyebrow. 'I think I'll give her a taste of what she's in for.' The two looked at each other before bursting into laughter. This merited a few evil looks from the Gryffindor table. Draco smirked, taking a bite of a sausage, as he imagined their faces what their faces would be when they learned of his approaching escapade in Gryffindor tower.

* * *

A/N: I hope you enjoyed it so far. I'd like to make the odd note that in England, a C cup is equal to an American B and so on. yep. Please review! Cheers all. 


End file.
